


He Picked The Longbottoms

by becauseISaidSo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Death, Harry Potter was Raised by Sirius Black, M/M, Madness, Multi, Sad, Tags May Change, Torture, ish, jily, not the kinky kind, this shit got dark quickly, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becauseISaidSo/pseuds/becauseISaidSo
Summary: That prophecy... yeah that one, well it could have been talking about two wizarding boys, Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom.  We know the story when the prophecy refers to Harry Potter, but what if it had meant Neville?  What if He Who Must Not Be Named was convinced that it meant Neville?  What then... well... this.





	1. 1 November 1981 - 9:00 pm

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, there are quotes from the books in this first chapter, they belong to J.K. Rowling and not me!

_ “And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today.  Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise.  Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.  Most mysterious.  And now over to Jim McGuffin with the weather.  Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” _

“James!” Lily Evans Potter, who had been nodding off in front of the muggle television (a contraption still alien to her husband) sat bolt upright on their loveseat at the news reporters segment. 

She heard the quick footsteps behind her that marked James’s entrance into the room, “What is it?” Without looking at him, Lily could tell that her husband's wand was drawn. 

“It's the muggles,” she said, turning to him and pointing at the T.V. as the newscaster started exclaiming at the meteor shower they'd had that day, “Shooting stars, owls in the day time, something's happened, James,”

Her husband lowered himself slowly onto the loveseat beside her, watching the television. “We would have heard,” he said slowly. 

“From who?” She asked, “Dumbledore? Wormy? You know Padfoot would be jumping into action without telling us anything! Remus doesn't even know where we are anymore, James,”

“I still think that was a mistake,” said James, distractedly.

Lily surveyed her husband, “Regardless, we’re not anyone's top priority!”

As if on cue, there was a loud  _ crack _ from the kitchen, and a familiar voice, “Prongs! Lily! You alright?”

“Padfoot!” James got up and almost ran into the kitchen, Lily close behind him. 

“Good you're here!” Sirius Black said when they were both in view, “Bambi’s okay?”

“Yeah, Harry’s fine, he's asleep upstairs,” James said, peering into Sirius’s eyes, “Padfoot, what's wrong?”

Lily studied her friend. She hadn't noticed it right away but Sirius’s eyes were bloodshot, his skin was paler than usual and he looked tired. “Sit down, Pads,” she said, gesturing towards the kitchen table. 

The two men sat, James still peering at Sirius.  _ Something big has happened _ . 

“Water or firewhiskey?” She asked as she pulled three glasses from the shelf. 

“Just water,” Sirius croaked.  _ It must be really bad then.  _

Lily filled the glasses then joined the men at the kitchen table. “What’s happened?” James asked without preamble. 

Sirius accepted his glass of water, took a sip, and said, “Voldemort’s gone,”

There was silence in the tiny kitchen. 

“What do you mean?” James’s voice was low, cautious, warrey, “what do you mean, ‘gone’?”

Sirius shrugged, “Gone. Just gone. Dumbledore says he’s not dead, but there's definitely a body and the Death Eaters are disbanding. A lot have come out of imperius curses and a lot have fled.”

“How did this happen?” Asked Lily. There had to be a catch. There had to be a reason for Sirius’s somber mood. 

Sirius grimaced. “That's the thing. No one's quite sure. The leading theory though is that he couldn't kill the Longbottom’s son,”

“What?!” James and Lily’s yells were simultaneous. Sirius was looking at his hands. 

“Frank and Alice are dead. He- he killed them. Word is he tried to kill their son, Neville, but couldn't. No one is quite sure why, but he couldn't kill Neville. Dumbledore is talking to Frank's parents now, I think they’re going to look after the boy,”

There was a stunned silence, Lily could feel tears threatening to fall. Her and Alice had gotten pregnant around the same time, between that and the Order the couples had gotten reasonably close. 

“But he's gone?” James asked, “he's really gone?”

Sirius nodded. James leaned back in his chair. 

There was silence as they drank their water, each thinking about what had happened. Lily was thinking about Alice. Alice who had always been so kind and caring, so fierce and unapologetic.  She’d been a few years older than Lily at Hogwarts, and for one reason or another, Lily had always looked up to her. Her and Frank’s relationship had been something of legend. They were both extraordinary people.  _ They were extraordinary,  _ Lily reminded herself.  _ Were _ . Now they were gone. Killed by the greatest dark wizard to ever live. The greatest dark wizard who had met his downfall in a little boy. Lily’s thoughts drifted to Alice’s son, Neville. He was one day older than Harry, Lily’s eyes welled up in tears again at the thought of  _ if it had been them _ . What if he had chosen them, the Potters? Lily’s breath caught in her throat, she didn’t like the idea. And then suddenly she was feeling guilty, guilty to have not been chosen, to not be ‘marked’. 

James stood up slowly, and brought out a bottle of firewhiskey, his face was solemn, as he poured three glasses, and set them on the table. Lily and Sirius each took theirs, looking up at him. He took a deep breath and raised his glass, “To Frank and Alice Longbottom, who fought so bravely, and died for all of us.”

“To Frank and Alice,” Lily and Sirius chorused back, all of them taking a sip of their drinks.  The alcohol burned Lily’s throat as it went down, the tears had finally begun to fall.

James wasn’t done, “To Neville Longbottom, who brought about the peace this world needed so much,”

“To Neville Longbottom,” they said, drinking again. James drained his own glass, setting it on the table. There was a moment of silence as Sirius and Lily drained their own cups.

“I think it's time, Prongs,” Sirius said after a moment, his voice was low but clear. The atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. Sirius had action in his voice. Lily looked at the two men. There was no mischievous glint in Sirius’s eyes, instead it was sad. Sad and determined. 

“Time for what?” James was eyeing his friend curiously. 

“We’ve got to talk to Moon- to Remus,” said Sirius, meeting James’s eyes. 

Lily saw James’s jaw set. “I trust him,” he said, defensively. 

“I want to, but we need to find out for certain if our theory is true,”

“Your theory,” James corrected him, “I never thought it was Moony,” Lily noticed the deliberate use of the nickname. 

Sirius looked up at James, “Did you think it was me then?” It was not an accusation. 

James shook his head, “I trust all of you,” he said, “I think we must have mis-information,”

“Shall we go find out?” Sirius stood up from the kitchen table, the determined glint back in his eyes. 

“Yes, I say we shall,” said James, rolling up his sleeves, “you know where he’s staying?”

Sirius nodded as the men moved around the table to each other, “on the count of three then,” said Sirius as James took hold of his forearm, “One, two-”

“Wait!” The two men looked at Lily, confused. 

“You can't go banging on Remus’s front door!” She snapped at the two of them, still frozen, there hands clenched together. “Sit down!” she commanded, the motherly instincts that had awoken when Harry had been born, kicking in.

They sat. 

She stood glowering down at them, her hands on her hips.  She looked at Sirius, “When is the next Order meeting?” she asked.

“It was supposed to be tonight,” he said, “but...” he trailed off.

“But what?!”

“But I don’t think it’s going to happen now, because of… you know,”

“Well, I think we should go,” she shot a look at her husband who somehow was looking both older and younger at the same moment.  “We can regroup, we can talk about it.  If Voldemort tried to kill Frank and Alice’s son, then it obviously wasn’t us he was after.  Which means,” she said, looking between the two waiting for them to catch up, “Which means there might not have been a spy at all,”

There was a small silence, then James’s face broke out in a huge grin, “See!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Sirius, “You were just being paranoid!”

“Oi!” Sirius swatted James’s finger away, “We don’t know anything yet! And besides,” he added, less playful, “I do  _ want  _ to be wrong,”

“Let’s go and find out what the Order thinks,” said Lily, sitting back down at the table, with such finality that the men didn’t protest.  “When does the meeting start?”

“Nine,” Sirius said, his voice still hoarse.  

Lily looked at the clock in the wall.  It was 8:45.  _ Close enough _ .  

“Let’s go then,”

 

They couldn’t apparate with Harry, so James went ahead, checking that all was well at Moody’s and then Sirius and Lily (with baby Harry asleep in a basket in her arms) flued to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

A loud chorus of cheers greeted her as she stepped out of the fireplace, and she quickly cast a silencing charm around Harry, praying he would stay asleep. Moody’s house was fully of people.  Elphias Doge hailed her as she stepped into the room, half drunk with his stupid blue hat propped nonchalantly on his head. 

“We haven’t seen you in  _ ages _ !” cried Emmeline Vance, coming over and giving Lily a hug, “We’re all celebrating, c’mon, Moody’s this way, he’s talking to James,”

Lily followed Emmeline into the next room, skirting around Dedalus Diggle and Sturgis Podmore who were having an animated conversation about a broomstick, each throwing her a wave before returning to their conversation.

James, Sirius, and Moody were in the kitchen, Moody greeted her offering a nod towards sleeping Harry in his basket.

“Sorry about the noise,” he grumbled, scratching his nose. It was still healing from the wound Dolohov had given him on their last encounter. 

“Don’t pick at it!” said Sirius, swatting Moody’s hand away.  Moody glared at him but turned his attention back to Lily and James.

“It’s been a while,” he said, his voice gravely, “James was just telling me that the two of you had gone into hiding,”

“Did you not know that?” Lily asked, looking between the four of them.  She had thought Dumbledore had kept everyone in the loop, but considering there had been rumors of a spy, maybe he had thought it best to keep quiet.

“We suspected,” said Moody, “But no one would confirm anything. Anyways,” he said clapping them both on the shoulder, “it’s good to see you again!”

“It’s good to be back!” said James, grinning, “who else is showing up, Mad-eye?”

“Just our usual crowd,” said Moody, looking around, “I think everyone who’s here is expecting a party, though I don’t think we should be letting our guards down this early yet,” he peered into the other room before shutting the door to the kitchen and looked at Sirius, James, and Lily (Emmeline had left to continue her conversation with Elphias).  “With Voldemort gone, I suspect some Death Eaters will be wanting revenge, we cannot let ourselves get complacent,” He looked and Lily and James, “I don’t know if it was wise to for the two of you to show up here tonight, we still don’t know if there is a spy,”

James and Lily looked at each other, communicating through looks the way people who have known each other for years can. “Do you know who the spy is, Alastor?” asked James after a moment.

“No,” said Moody, gravely, “I know that you have your theory, however,” he looked at Sirius, then at James who frowned.

“I trust him,” said James, defiantly, folding his arms across his chest, “Unless someone has proof that they’re not sharing, I will not suspect him,” Lily frowned at her husband, she knew he was as stubborn as a mule, but she happened to agree with him.  Remus was not a traitor, Remus was loyal to a fault, he would never betray them, she was certain, never.

“But Prongs,” said Sirius, his face stern, “That’s what makes a good spy, that you  _ trust _ them,” he looked at Moody, imploringly, “Would it not hurt to… to  _ check _ ?”

“How?” said Lily, before Moody could respond, “How do you suggest we check if Remus is secretly a Death Eater?”

Sirius squared his jaw, “Let me talk to him,” he said, “I know him the best, he trusts me, let me just  _ talk _ to him,”

Lily looked at Sirius, “You haven’t talked with him?” She asked, concerned, “but I thought you saw him regularly still? Weren't you two on a mission together recently?”

Sirius sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes, “Once it became clear that there  _ was  _ a spy-”

“It’s not clear!” James said, his voice raising, “it was a  _ theory _ !  Dumbledore was sure that Voldemort would come after Lily and I, but he  _ didn’t _ , he went after Frank and Alice!” 

The kitchen was silent, James’s words rang through the room.  Lily put a comforting hand on James’s elbow, he looked at her and grinned sadly before continuing, his voice lower now, softer, “I don’t know where Dumbledore got that information, but something was wrong, he went for Frank and Alice, not us, and … and to me that means there might not have been a spy at all. We had wrong information,”

“But James,” Sirius said, his voice calm too, “Just because no one’s come after you yet, doesn’t mean they won’t. Like Moody said, the Death Eaters will be angry and looking for revenge, they’re just as bad! Look at what Dolohov did to Fabian and Gideon! Look what Travers did to Marlene,” Lily closed her eyes at the mention of Marlene, “look at my  _ cousin _ , for god’s sake! We can’t take them lightly. If one of us is… a Death Eater, we need to find out as soon as possible before they go on a rampage,”

Lily couldn’t deny that Sirius had a point, she looked at her husband who was glaring at Sirius, his jaw set, “Love,” she touched his arm, “Maybe we should at least go talk to Remus,” she looked at Moody, “Will he be here tonight?” 

Moody shook his head, but it was Sirius who answered “It’s full moon tomorrow, I don’t think he’ll risk it,”

“Why haven’t you talked to him, Sirius?” asked Lily, after a moment.

Sirius took a breath, looking around the kitchen, “Once we thought there  _ might _ be a spy,” he said, looking at James, “Remus was Dumbledore’s suspicion. You know how Greyback cornered him last year? Well, it really shook him up, I think Dumbledore thought that Remus might have been persuaded by the promise of… of retribution.  He fears the end of the war just as much as the Death Eaters do, without the Order, he has no job, no livelihood, very few businesses will hire a werewolf, I think Dumbledore thought he would have found the promise of equal rights for werewolves enticing enough to turn traitor.

“I agreed,” Sirius continued, sadly, “I didn’t want to, but he was the best fit for that role, he had the most to gain by joining.  We were-,” he swallowed hard, not looking at the rest of them, “we were talking about moving in together,” James inhaled sharply, this was news. Lily knew that they had broken up around that time, but Sirius had never shared the reasons with them, “I- I tried to confront him about it, and he got angry,” Sirius trailed off, still not looking at them, “I hurt him and upset him, but he also didn’t deny it,” he smiled sadly at the floor, “So, we didn’t move in together and we broke up and when I told Dumbledore about it, he told me I shouldn’t speak to him again, in case I let my emotions get the better of me, and I… I let something slip,” his voice was bitterly calm.

“What could you let slip?” James asked, “You’re not our secret keeper, you couldn’t have told anyone anything,”

“Except who your secret keeper is,” Sirius said, looking at James for the first time, “If there’s anyone he would trust without a doubt, it was Remus.  So, Dumbledore sent Dorcus on the mission with Remus, and I haven’t seen him since,”

A small silence followed these words, then Moody said, “Well, he got back from the mission about a month ago.  I think with… what’s happened, paying him a visit isn’t a bad idea,”

Sirius looked at Moody and nodded, then looked at James, “I want to be wrong,” he said, his voice small, Lily saw that his eyes were sparkling, “I so want to be wrong, but we need to know, James, we need to find out,”

James nodded, “Alright, we’ll go,”

Moody looked at the two of them, “Let us know?” he asked.  

James nodded, kissed Lily on the lips, grabbed Sirius’s hand, and they were gone.

Lily turned to Moody, she had just remembered something, something so strange she was shocked she hadn't noticed before hand, "Where's Peter?" she asked.  The man usually was at all of the Order meetings, though he had been acting strange when he'd visited them the previous month.

Moody shrugged, "I haven't seen him in a month or so. I assume he's on a mission," Moody took a swig from his hip-flask. Lily nodded thoughtfully.


	2. 1 November 1981 - 10:00 pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Pain and suffering (physical), if you want to skip don't read the last section (there are three), summary in bottom notes.

The alleyway that was the front of Remus’s building was dimly light, Sirius hadn’t been there since he’d accused Remus of being spy almost six months previously. His heart skipped a beat at the familiar scene. Nothing had changed. He walked in the front door and held it open for James.

“Where are we?” asked James, looking around.

“Muggle London,” said Sirius, sadly, “he can’t afford anything else. I push the button and once he answers, the door will unlock.”

Sirius pushed the button next to Remus’s name, after a moment, the speaker crackled and they heard Remus’s voice, “Who is it?” He sounded tired, drained. The full moon was tomorrow after all.

“It’s me, Moons,” said Sirius, the nickname slipping out before he could stop it, “I- I’ve got James here too,”

“Hey Moony!” said James cheerfully, waving at the speaker. 

Sirius rolled his eyes at him, “Can we come up?”

There was silence then the door clicked, unlocking. “I guess that’s a ‘yes’,” said Sirius, pulling open the door and beginning the ascent to Remus’s flat.

They climbed in silence, James taking in every little detail. They stopped on the 4th floor, and walked to the back apartment. Sirius knocked on the door, his heart was pounding. 

It took Remus a long time to answer, when he finally did, he held onto the door, standing in the doorway, barring their entrance.

“What happened?” he asked, looking at James, pointedly ignoring Sirius.

“Moon-Moony,” James stammered, looking him up and down, “What happened to you? You look terrible!” 

He did. His hair was the longest Sirius had ever seen it, falling into his eyes and down his neck almost like a mullet. The sweatpants he was wearing had holes in them and stains on them and looked like they hadn’t been washed in months. His shirt was a faded Gryffindor tank top from their school days and was in a similar state of uncleanliness. There were dark circles under his eyes and dirt under his fingernails. He wore a scowl that matched his outfit.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, “What is it?”

“Moony, you don’t look fine,” said James, stepping forward, but Remus flinched away, pulling the door tighter.

“I’m fine. Why are you here?”

James looked from Sirius to Remus, clearly not knowing what to say, “I just- I haven’t seen you and- um,” he glanced at Sirius again who shrugged, “Can- can we come in?”

Remus looked at the pair of them, “It’s been six months,” he said, “And you show up here at almost 10 on the night before full moon. This had better be good,”

“I know- I’m sorry Moony. We haven’t seen anyone, it’s just that tonight, with everything, I wanted to see you,”

Remus narrowed his eyes at James, “What do you mean ‘with everything’? What’s happened?”

“Remus, have you heard?” Sirius asked, before James could respond.

Remus looked at him, his eyes were cold and unyielding, “Heard what?”

“Voldemort’s- Voldemort’s gone,” he said.

Remus’s face, hard and stoney a moment before, seemed to melt. His eyes gained life, the scowl slid off his face, his mouth hanging open, his eyebrows threatening to reach his hairline. “What?” he said, breathlessly.

“Gone,” said Sirius, grinning.

“H-how?” breathed Remus, his eyes not leaving Sirius, “When?”

Sirius swallowed, “we’ll tell you if you let us in?” he said, grinning apologetically.

Remus nodded, and opened the door for them, leading them into his flat. 

It was filthy. Clothes lay strewn everywhere. Remus threw some clothes from the couch to a corner of the floor and gestured for them to sit down. 

“Um, I can only offer you water,” he said, bustling around the kitchen. 

“We’re alright, Moons,” said James, sitting on the couch. Sirius sat next to him. It smelled strongly of sweat and dust, and as Sirius looked around he realized that most of the mess and disarray was old. It didn't look like Remus had been living here. 

Remus came into the room, rubbing the back of his neck, blushing, “sorry about the mess,” he smiled apologetically at James. 

James waved him away as Remus sat down. He folded his legs up under him and looked at the two of them. 

“So, Voldemort's dead?”

Sirius’s breath hitched in his throat, “not quite,” he said, not looking at Remus, “he's gone though. He doesn't have a body, but Dumbledore thinks he's still alive, somewhere, biding his time,”

“How?”

“We’re not sure,” he took a breath, and looked up at Remus. The other man's brow was furrowed with concern. This was the second time in an hour he’d have to deliver this news, and this time it was to his ex-boyfriend. “Frank and Alice are dead.” 

Remus gave a sharp intake of breath and the darkness behind his eyes seemed to close in again, but he didn't say anything, letting Sirius continue. 

“Voldemort killed them last night and tried to kill their son. But, the boy survived, Remus, the curse rebounded and Voldemort's gone and the boy lives.”

Remus looked from Sirius to James, “That's- that's good then,” he said after a minute, “I mean, it's not good about Frank and Alice, but it's really good that he's gone. Have the Death Eaters started anything?”

Even though he wasn't looking at him, Sirius knew Remus was asking about Greyback. James responded, shaking his head, “Not yet, but Moody thinks it'll only be a matter of time,”

Remus nodded, knowingly, still not looking at Sirius. 

Sirius was feeling guilty, how on earth was he supposed to come back from this? How could he ask Remus, now, when they were having a perfectly normal conversation, if he was secretly a Death Eater? Sirius’s eyes roamed over the other man. His arms were bare, and his forearms held no signs of a mark, besides the scars from his transformations.

Remus cleared his throat, and Sirius looked up at his face, realizing too late that Remus had caught him looking, had caught him checking. 

Remus’s eyes went dark and cold, there was no love, no friendly companionship to be seen there, but Sirius met his gaze with one of his own, defiant and needing to be heard. There was a moment where they looked at each other. They hadn’t been this close in six months. The echos of their last conversation seemed to pass between them and Sirius felt something twist in his gut.

“James,” said Remus, not taking his eyes off Sirius, “can you give Sirius and I a minute, I think he wants to talk to me alone,”

James glanced from Remus to Sirius and stood up, “I'll just meet you back at the Order, Pads,” he said. Sirius nodded, not breaking his gaze from Remus’s eyes. James gripped him on the shoulder, bracingly, then disapparated.

* * *

 

“Spit it out,” Remus said after a long moment, “Why did you really come here?”

Sirius looked away from him, breaking their steady eye contact, finally, and rubbed the back of his neck, “I missed you,” he said quietly, looking at the floor. 

Remus laughed, though he had never been less amused in his life. “I'm surprised you came,” Sirius’s shoulders hitched, “considering you think I'm a Death Eater,”

His voice was casual, but it was costing him all of his energy to keep it that way. He was  _ furious _ , had been for months. How  _ dare _ Sirius accuse him of being a traitor? How could he even think that?

“Remus, I don’t think you’re a Death Eater,” his voice was soft, and he was still staring at the floor.

“Oh?” Remus laughed again. “What made you change your mind?”

“I never thought you were-”

“Oh no?!” Remus could feel his face flushing, his temper was consistently at breaking point these days, “Then what was that conversation we had six months ago? Did I dream it?”

Sirius swallowed, “I never actually thought you  _ were _ ,” he said slowly, still not looking at Remus, “but if there was a spy, you fit the description the best and- and I just needed to make sure.”

Remus looked at his ex-boyfriend exasperated. How had he ever loved him? Someone who couldn’t trust him, who could think  _ that _ of him? Sirius still wasn’t looking at him, he was picking at a stray thread on the sofa. It was very unnerving to have him back in his flat, sitting on his couch; he looked exactly the same - his hair was a bit longer - but he was unchanged; apart from his nervous stature, he could have been waiting for the pizza delivery they used to get on Friday nights. It was uncanny how well he fit in Remus’s flat, and just how good he looked on Remus’s couch. Realizing this made Remus’s stomach clench, he didn’t want Sirius to look good, he wanted him to hurt, to feel the pain he’d caused Remus back in April. He wanted Sirius grovelling at his feet, begging for forgiveness. But Sirius wasn’t begging, Sirius was nervous, yes, but his jaw was set, a clear sign he was readying for a fight.

“Are you sure?” asked Remus, finally, when the silence and the stillness had become almost too much to bear.

Sirius closed his eyes, took a breath, and looked up at him, “No.” The word came out clear and sure, “No, I’m not sure and Moon- Remus, I need your help to make me sure.”

“Of fucking course you do,” Remus could feel his temper overflowing, “how could you think me capable of that, Black?” he threw the hated last name across the room, ignoring Sirius’s flinch, “You’re so fucking full of it. You need my help determining if  _ I’m _ the spy for Voldemort? You've known me since we were eleven, for christ’s sake. You’re asking me - ME - of all people to prove my loyalty to the Order?!” he was shouting now, but he didn’t care, “Merlin’s beard! You’re more like your father than you thought, Sirius, he too was untrusting and manipulative. He too knew just the right way to get under someone’s skin! You talk big, about James being your brother and all that crap, but you’ve never had a real family, have you?! Never known what it’s like to love and to trust without something being wrong! You need help, Sirius, but not from me. I obviously can’t help you because who would take advice and help from a monster, who’s a Death Eater to boot!”

“YOU’RE NOT DENYING IT!” Sirius’s yell broke through Remus’s tirade. They were standing now, squaring each other up, Remus could not remember getting to his feet. “You have  _ yet _ to deny it, Remus,” Sirius hissed, his nostrils flaring, “Bloody hell, you made it  _ worse _ by not denying it! Say it, you fucking fool, win my trust back, say that you’re not a Death Eater, say that you’re on my side!”

Remus stood staring at him for a moment, then thrust out his forearms, turning the insides of them out. They were pale, small scars dotting them, and completely free of any Dark Mark. “I’m not a Death Eater, Sirius,” he said, his voice as calm as he could make it, “but I am most definitely  _ not _ on your side, you’ve made that clear. Now get out of my house.”

Sirius didn’t move, “Why-?” he began but Remus cut him off.

“I said get out of my house! The fact that you needed me to tell you is fucking unforgivable. GET OUT!”

Sirius took one last look at Remus, and disapparated.

* * *

 

The man was crying. He looked so small under her wand. She could do whatever she wanted and he would be powerless to fight back. She flicked her wand and the ropes binding him tightened. He gave a small squeak of protest, but remained still, staring at the floor, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“You told the Dark Lord to go to the Longbottom’s house, didn't you?” Her voice was dry from the interrogation, but she was pleased to see the shiver that went through the man at her words. 

“I- I thought they were the ones he n-needed,” he sniffed, still looking at the floor. 

“Liar! You were protecting your old school friends, weren't you?! You were looking out for your own skin rather than being true and loyal to the Dark Lord!”

“N-no!” The man was trembling, “No, I- I didn't know what would happen! I promise! I had no idea that he would die, I-”

“CRUCIO!” The spell fell from her lips before she could think. “The Dark Lord is not dead!” She yelled over the man's screams, “he will rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before!”

“Bella?” A second, younger, man poked his head into the room. The woman lowered her wand, the man tied stopping screaming, but he whimpered and shook, sweat and tears soaking his robes. 

“What is it?” She hissed at the young man. 

“I just thought you might like some help,” he came fully into the room, surveying the small man huddled on the floor, “It doesn’t seem as if your method of persuasion is working.”

She glared at him, but took a step back, allowing him to get a better look at the man whimpering at her feet. He bent down, and swept the hair back from the man's eyes, almost lovingly. Then, he gripped his face, forcing their eyes to meet.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. The small man’s eyes flicked from him to herself and back again. 

“Y-you’re Crouch’s b-boy,” he said, finally, his voice quavering. She could see Crouch’s jaw set and he gripped the other man’s face harder.

“I am a servant to the Dark Lord,” he hissed, “And so are you, you pathetic piece of filth. You have one chance to prove that you really are his servant, and if you don’t…” he looked the smaller man up and down, “I think there are many of us who would happily kill you: Greyback and our lovely Bella here for starters,” 

“P-p-please,” the man was terrified, his small watery eyes darting everywhere in the room, from the door, to herself, to the mouse holes in the base boards.

“You have two choices,” the young man said, pulling the small man’s attention back to him, “You can keep quiet, protect your school friends who have obviously abandoned you, and die; or, you help us bring The Dark Lord back to power, you help us find him. What will it be?”

He was shaking violently, eyes flitting from Bella, to the young man still holding his fance, and back again, “Y-you really w-wont k-kill me?” he asked, his voice trembling, he was looking her in the eyes for the first time in hours.

She smiled, knowing how much it unnerved him, “So long as you are faithful to the Dark Lord, no, I won’t kill you,”

“Where are the Potter’s?” hissed the young man, “They would know where the Dark Lord is, tell us, where are they?” 

Wormtail looked from Crouch to Bella, his eyes watering with fresh tears, and trembling all over, “T-they live in- in G-Godric’s Hollow,” he stammered, “It’s called P-Potters’ Den,”

Bella turned her wand on him again, “If you lie!?” She shrieked. 

“No!” Wormtail recoiled visibly, “it's true! It's true! They've been living there for almost t-two years and I've been their secret k-keeper since April! P-please believe me!” He was crying again. 

Bella kicked out, disgusted. “Come, Barty, lets see if what he says is true,”

She flicked her wand and the ropes binding Wormtail fell away. He lay on the floor, sniffling and moaning. Crouch stood up, looking down at the snivelling man, “Remember, Wormtail, if you’ve lied to us at all, we  _ will _ kill you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third section summary: Wormtail is tortured and bullied into giving the Potter's whereabouts to Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr.


	3. 1 November 1981 - 11:00 pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Lily settle in for a nice night after an exhausting day, except they get some unwelcome visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Pain and Suffering (physical)/Torture. To avoid skip the last section (there are two). Also, sorry because it's like... most of the chapter.

They were back at home. James and Lily had waited around for Sirius to return, but he hadn’t. They’d agreed that they wouldn’t check on him until the morning, Sirius could take care of himself, and besides, neither of them believed Remus would do anything to hurt him, no matter what Sirius said.

“Maybe they’ve made up?” Lily joked as she transferred the - thankfully - still sleeping Harry back into his crib. He shifted slightly, but his thumb found his mouth and he slept on.

James laughed. He’d thought about it too, maybe they had made up, maybe they were catching up on the last six months as they lounged on Remus’s bed. He smiled, hopeful. It would be wonderful to see them happy and together again. It was just starting to hit him that the war was over, something he’d found out only two hours previously. The war was over and he was a survivor and so was his wife and child and his best friends. They had made it through. 

Lily cast a silencing spell around Harry’s room, one that would let sound out, but not in, and she and James curled up on the sofa in the living room. It had been a long day. Lily turned on one of her muggle movies, and settled into him, her head in his lap. He stroked her hair, absent mindedly. He was exhausted, the emotional roller coaster of an evening was dying down. He wondered vaguely about Peter, and made a mental note to check on him in the morning. Lily had told him Moody thought he was on a mission, but James was sure he would have told him if that were true. He yawned as the characters met and fell in love. They had watched this movie before, many times, it was one of Lily's favorites. Lily, herself, was drifting off. He looked down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. She was so beautiful and strong and smart. She had kept her wits about her the entire day, through the pain of losing Alice, and the whirlwind of the Order meeting. She was his anchor, she kept him firmly in the present. The movie ended, and Lily still did not stir, he didn’t want to move her, she looked so peaceful. 

Slowly, James moved her head to a pillow and stood up, she shifted, but stayed asleep. He smiled at her, and turned the T.V. off. The house was quiet, the road outside was dark, it was past midnight. He loved this time of night, everything was peaceful and still. This was the time of night where exploring with Sirius and Remus and Peter had been the best. The grounds of Hogwarts had been empty, still, the creatures sleeping, even the nocturnal ones staying away from the Stag and Dog that had dominated the forest. He looked out the window longingly, it would snow soon, and maybe, with the war ended, the four of them could go exploring again. Remus riding his back, Wormtail clinging to Padfoot’s collar that he always used to wear. He smiled out at the street, thinking about the future. They could raise Harry in safety now, not fear. He would not grow up wanting and afraid, but brave and strong, confident that the world around him was solid, stable, with both of his parents by his side. 

He turned away from the window and slowly started shutting down the house, turning lights off, double checking the lock on the door - not that it mattered too much with the Fidelius Charm still in place. He moved upstairs, poking his head into Harry’s room. The boy was still asleep, his thumb had fallen from his mouth and he was gripping the stuffed lion Remus had given him the day he’d been born. James smiled at the sight before closing the door. He double checked the silencing charm - the muggle rubbish collectors would be coming in the morning and they often woke Harry up - and moved into his and Lily’s bedroom, turning down the sheets. 

He yawned again. He would go down stairs, wake Lily up, climb into bed and the two of them would sleep more soundly than they had in years, for Lord Voldemort was gone, he was no longer a threat, and the war was over.

Then, suddenly, as if the universe had been listening to his thoughts, there was a bang from downstairs. James froze. Sirius wouldn’t show up this late, and if he did, he’d already be calling, letting them know it was him. Silently, he checked his pockets for his wand, closing his eyes, trying to remember where…  _ Shit. _ It was on the coffee table, downstairs, in the living room. Moody’s voice rang unbidden through his head,  _ We cannot let our guard down just yet _ . He’d done exactly that. Fooled by the quiet and the lateness of the hour, he’d allowed himself to be complacent. He listened hard, he could hear someone moving around downstairs - multiple someones? Without warning, something white and silver flashed outside, disappearing into the night, then he heard Lily’s scream.

* * *

 

Lily awoke with a start. Immediately, she knew something was wrong. She’d awoken to a bang, one unaccompanied by Padfoot’s usual reassurances. She lay perfectly still, her eyes open. In the reflection from the television, she could see the silhouettes of at least three people standing in the foyer, they had obviously just forced the door open. She couldn’t see their faces in the reflection, but she would recognize that hair anywhere.  _ Bellatrix _ . Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed her wand - noticing regretfully that James’s was still next to hers; wherever he was, he was defenseless. She could hear the sounds of people moving towards her. She closed her eyes and muttered her message to Padfoot.

“Expecto Patronum,”

She barely had time to register the flash of silver light that escaped out the window before the pain hit. She screamed, her body convulsing, struggling to hold on to her wand. The pain was immeasurable. She had been under the cruciatus curse before, but this was different. She writhed on the couch, her body seizing, her eyes shut tight. Someone was wrestling her wand out of her hand, she was powerless to stop it. She could think of nothing but the pain coursing through her body. Then, suddenly, the pain stopped. She lay on the couch, panting, her eyes still screwed tight, her wand gone from her fist. 

Then, a firm hand gripped her around the throat and her eyes flew open. Fenrir Greyback stood over her, his mouth pulled into a grotesque smile, his teeth yellow and sharpened into points.

“‘Ello poppet,” he said. His breath was foul and Lily tried to shrink back into the couch, to wriggle away from him, but his grip on her throat was too tight. She gasped, trying to catch her breath, her hands grappling at his wrist. 

Bellatrix laughed, and Lily felt her blood turn cold. Greyback licked his lips then moved aside, the coffee table scraping behind him, and hurled her to the floor. She landed hard on her shoulder, gasping for air. She took two shuddering breaths before looking up. The room was full of Death Eaters, Bellatrix and Greyback stood nearest her, Bellatrix had her wand on her. Rodolphus and Rabastan were pulling the curtains closed. Barty Crouch Jr. sat on the automan, smiling sardonically at her, twirling hers and James’s wands in his hands; and in the corner, pointedly not looking at her, stood Peter.

“P-peter?” she croaked out, her mind whirling. What was he doing here, with a bunch of Death Eaters? Why were they letting him walk around, why wasn’t he gagged and bound and… the truth hit her like a ton of bricks, and she could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she must not let them fall...

“You’re little Wormtail isn’t as loyal to you as you might think,” said Bellatrix, laughing.

“Peter, please.” He wasn’t looking at her, but at the floor, shuffling his feet.

Rabastan walked over to Peter and pulled up the sleeve of his left arm. In the light coming through the curtains, she could see the Dark Mark emblazoned there. “Tell her how long you’ve been one of us, Wormtail,” Rabastan said, grinning at Lily huddled on the floor. Peter swallowed but did not answer. Rabastan pointed his wand at Peter’s throat, “Tell her,” he hissed.

“A-a year,” he stammered, still not looking at Lily. She let out a choked sob, blinking quickly.  _ Now is not the time to get emotional, Evans _ , she told herself. She looked at Peter.  Peter in all his stammering quietness would never have betrayed James, never. James took him under his wing when he needed it the most. James protected him. James was the reason Peter had a job and a life and a livelihood.  _ But still _ , said a small voice in the back of her head,  _ he was the one who had the most to gain.  _ If he didn’t feel that James could protect him anymore, then it’s possible… he had turned traitor to the Order.

Bellatrix laughed again, drawing Lily’s eyes to her. “You’re a stupid girl,” she said, spitting at Lily’s feet, “Couldn’t even recognize the spy that was right under your nose,”

Lily’s eyes flitted around the room, taking everything in. Rodolphus was guarding the door; Rabastan, the front window, and Crouch the side one. The exits were barred. She had no wand, and it was five against one. She was powerless, helpless, and completely alone. James must surely still be in the house, but he didn’t have his wand. Their fireplace was in the living room, so there was no hope of him flooing for help without getting caught as well. Maybe if he could sneak out a window and run over to Bathilda's house, he could use her fire, and sound the alarm. At the very least, she prayed her message to Sirius would make it in time. 

As if reading her mind, Crouch turned his wand on her. “Where is your husband?” he spat. She swallowed, but met his gaze with her own.

“I don’t know,” she said, firmly. 

“LIAR!” Bellatrix roared, “You know where he is, you filthy mudblood! We have his wand, he can’t do anything without his wand,” she smiled at her. She looked mad, her hair was flying in all directions and the glint in her eye that was crazed enough to chill Lily to the bone. “Search the house!” she snapped at Rodolphus and Rabastan. The nodded at her and left the room.

Lily closed her eyes, praying.  _ Please have gotten out of the house, James, please. _ Her husband might be stubborn and loyal, but he wasn’t stupid. If he’d been listening he would have heard their number and realized that a fight was not the winning strategy. He would have tried to leave, but maybe… Her eyes flew open at the thought. What if he’d tried to protect Harry? They hadn’t been very public about their pregnancy, and precious few knew that they even had a son, but Wormtail was one of those few, who had he told? If James had gone to protect Harry, and Rabastan and Rodolphus found him, they’d find Harry too. Her heart was beating painfully in her chest, she wanted to do something, wanted to fight, but she couldn’t. She could hear the men moving around the downstairs, then one of them yelled.

“Stupefy! I’ve got him!” 

Lily let out the breath she’d been holding. They hadn’t gone upstairs. They hadn’t found Harry. He was safe - for now. The brothers dragged James into the living room. Rodolphus closed the door and resumed his post as Rabastan dumped James unceremoniously on the floor at Bellatrix's feet. 

“Excellent,” she said, smiling down at him. She looked at Greyback, “Cover her,” she said, gesturing to Lily. 

Lily stiffened as Greyback sat on the couch and took Lily’s hair in his hands, pulling her head back. Something cold touched her throat and she realized it was a knife. She resisted the urge to pull away, to close her eyes, to give into the fear. Instead she kept her eyes on her husband.

“Rennervate,” said Bellatrix, pointing her wand at James, as she crouched over him. He awoke with a start, looking around taking in the scene, but before he could sit up, Bellatrix and turned her wand on him, “Don’t move,” she said, her voice low and threatening. James stared at her wand, then looked up into her face. Lily saw that his jaw was set and knew what was coming. James tilted his head back and spat, full in Bellatrix’s face.

She shrieked, recoiling, wiping her face on her sleeve, “CRUCIO!”

James’s scream must have reached the next town. He writhed and flailed on the floor, his eyes shut tight. She closed her eyes too, praying the tears did not fall. She couldn’t watch, she couldn’t take it. Her love- “STOP IT!” she yelled at Bellatrix, not caring as the knife at her throat dug in a little. She could feel a trickle of blood sliding down her neck. Bellatrix raised her wand, and turned to look at Lily. She wasn’t smiling any more. Her face was twisted in a glare as she moved her wand to point at Lily. 

James had stopped screaming, he was panting beneath Bellatrix, his face screwed up, his eyes closed tight. 

Bellatrix opened her mouth and Lily braced for the impact but Crouch spoke up instead. “You’re wasting time, Bella. As much as you enjoy to play with your food, I think it best we get to the point.”

Bellatrix turned her glare on him, standing up. James sat up looking at her. “What do you want?” he spat, glaring at her.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at him again, “Tell us where The Dark Lord is,”

The question was absurd. Why would they know where Voldemort was? They'd known nothing about it, they'd found out mere hours beforehand. Finally, James spoke. “What?”

“Where is The Dark Lord?” Bellatrix shrieked, brandishing her wand at him, “I have plenty more pain to deal out, tonight, Potter, and hours before anyone will even think of calling. Tell us where he is,”

“I don’t know,” said James, flatly, “I only heard about his downfall a few hours ago. I know nothing more than you do!”

“LIAR!” Bellatrix yelled, again, “One more chance to tell the truth, you blood traitor filth! Where is The Dark Lord?!”

“I don’t know!” said James, more forcefully this time, “I don’t know any-”

But his words were cut off by Bellatrix’s curse. He screamed and screamed until his voice broke. He was writing on the floor, shaking with silent yells. Lily couldn’t help but watch him, the tears she’d been fighting back sliding silently down her face, she couldn’t bear it. Finally, Bellatrix raised her wand, and James lay still.

“Tell us where he is!” she shrieked.

James was breathing short, ragged breaths, his eyes were closed as if in prayer. “I don’t know,” he said, quietly.

Crouch handed the two captive wands to Wormtail then slid to the floor, grasping James’s head in his hands. James’s eyes flew open at his touch and Crouch forced his head around so he was looking at Lily, “You see your pretty wife, Potter?” he asked, his voice low and menacing, “You wouldn’t want to see her hurt would you?” 

Greyback’s hold on her hair grew tighter and the knife cut into her throat again. She was breathing shallowly. James’s eyes met hers for the first time and the world seemed to pause.

The phenomenon around silent communication has never been properly explained, but anyone who has been able to do it knows it requires two things: knowing the other person to the core of their being, and complete faith and trust in them. This kind of bond is often found in twins, born of the same womb, and living in the world as complete equals. On some occasions it is between child and parent, when the bond does not break or quake or falter. Rarer still is this connection found in couples. As most meet their match later in life, it can take years upon years of healthy steady relationship building to achieve even a mediocre silent communication. It takes devotion, understanding, and vulnerability. Lily and James Potter established their silent communication four months into their courtship.

Lily looked at her husband, willing him to understand.  _ It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I sent a message to Padfoot, he will come. You know him, he always comes. _

James looked back at her.  _ I am so sorry, my love. I never wanted this for us _ .

_ It’s okay. It’s not your fault. We are strong, we will get through this _ .

_ I love you _

_ I love you too _

“CRUCIO!”

The pain was back. The knife had thankfully left her throat, but she was screaming louder than she had ever screamed in her life. Greyback let go of her hair and she fell on her side, lurching and convulsing. She could vaguely hear someone yelling, but the pain was all consuming, she wasn’t aware of anything else. Her body felt like it was on fire. Every fiber of her being wanted nothing more but an end to the pain. She wanted it to stop. She wanted to die. She was completely unaware of her surroundings, all she knew was pain and fire and the longing for death. It would be such a sweet relief... 

The pain lifted and she pulled her knees up to her chest, whimpering and crying. But before she could ground her self again in reality, Greyback was pulling her back up by the hair, and Bellatrix was yelling at her.

“Tell us where he is!” she screamed, spit flying from her mouth, her eyes wide and crazed.

“I don’t know,” Lily sobbed, her dignity gone, all hope or thought of rescue and relief gone. She couldn’t hold on. The pain from the latest curse was still echoing through her body, she was shivering and shaking as the aftershocks washed over her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. She wanted nothing more than to retreat into herself and never come back.

“We don’t know anything,” James croaked. Lily looked at him again, her eyes tired, her vision blurred from tears. Crouch’s knee was on his chest, his hand pinning James’s head to the floor, forcing him to watch her.  _ I can’t hold on _ . She couldn’t. Not for much longer.

“Rabastan, Rodolphus, help me!” shouted Bellatrix. The two men moved forward. All three of them pointing their wands at her. “You have the opportunity to save her, you fool,” spat Bellatrix at James, “tell us where The Dark Lord is,”

James’s eyes never left hers.  _ I am so sorry. _ “I don’t know,” he croaked, tears leaking out of his eyes.

“On the count of three then,” said Bellatrix, her voice high and manic, “One, two, three,” 

The three of them yelled, “CRUCIO!”

She was surely dying. There was nothing else for it. This is what death was like. It wasn’t quick and quiet and easy, it was hard and painful and all consuming. She didn’t know if she was screaming. She no longer knew where she was. She could not hear, she could not see, she could not think. She did not know her own name. She only knew the pain coursing through her body. The world had turned to fire and knives and ice. She was burning and freezing at the same time. She was descending into hell. 

She did not know how long the pain lasted, all she knew was that suddenly she was aware. The pain was not gone, it was excruciating, pounding in every bone of her body, but it was leaving. Slowly, inch by inch. She became aware that she was on her stomach on the ground. She could smell again, the reek of vomit was grounding her once more in the present. The pain had not yet left, it was still coursing through her veins like a drug, maybe she was growing a tolerance for it? Dimly, she realized that someone was screaming. The world had sound. She could hear. She checked, it was not her who was screaming, she would know, wouldn’t she? Slowly, with every bit of effort she could muster, she opened her eyes. They were blurry from tears though she had no memory of shedding them. The vomit lay under her, sticking to her cheek. A woman was yelling, a man was screaming, these things she knew. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, trying to see. Someone was on the ground across from her. Someone familiar. He was the one screaming, though she could not think of a reason why. The pain was not yet gone, but she might be able to ignore it? She wasn’t sure. The man was no longer screaming. But why was he still flailing about? Why was he shuddering? Why was he seizing as if he was in pain? She wanted to help him, but she couldn’t, this she knew. The man stopped moving. He lay still, his face turned to hers, his glasses askew. She studied his face. His eyes were open, they were looking at her.  _ Lily _ . That was her name. 

“James,” she said, though had no memory of having achieved a voice with which to speak the word. That was his name.  _ James. _

Then someone was moving her, pulling at her hair. It hurt but it was nothing like the pain still consuming her heart. Someone slapped her across the face. What a strange thing to do. Her eyes found James’s. 

_ James _ .

_ Lily. _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you too. _

She did not know what that meant, but it felt good and right to her, as if it was something she liked to say, and something she liked to hear. She smiled, though she did not realize she had the ability to smile. The pain was lessening with every second, it was leaving faster now, maybe she would know more once it was gone, once it had stopped eating at her brain. Someone slapped her across the face again.

“WHERE IS HE?! TELL ME!!” 

She did not understand the words, and tried to shake her head to tell them as such. She was released and she fell back onto the ground. It did not hurt. Nothing hurt so bad anymore. She looked at James again. His eyes were on her’s. 

_ I’m sorry _ .

And the pain came again.


	4. 2 November 1981 - 2:00 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius gets a warning from Lily, but there are only two of them who can answer the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Nanowrimo has officially begun! As a result, this isn't really well edited. I will be going back and editing _after_ this month is over.

Something was nudging him, pushing at him. He shifted trying to swat the thing away, but it nudged him all the more fiercely. Sighing, Sirius opened his eyes. 

His bedroom was filled with light. A brilliantly lit silver doe stood in his living room. His half drunk, half asleep brain stared at it for a moment before he realized. It was a Patronus. Lily’s patronus. 

He sat bolt upright, staring at the doe. She regarded him and then Lily's voice rang through the room, “Bellatrix. Others. Help,”

_ No.  _ This could not be happening, this was a dream. It must be. The doe regarded him for a moment longer before disappearing in a cloud of silvery smoke. As if her leaving has been his beginning he flew out of bed, pulling on clothes haphazardly.  _ What was he going to do? _

In no time at all he was dressed and pulling down the tin that sat on top of the mantel. “Alastor Moody's place,” he said, stepping into the fire. 

The house was dark, remnants of the party lay strewn about. “ALASTOR!” He called, panic coursing through his veins. There was a bang and he ducked just in time, something whizzed over his head - a booby trap for potential unwelcome visitors. 

“Black,” came Moody's gruff voice as he turned on the light, pointing his wand at him, “what is the reason you have not spoken to Remus Lupin in six months?”

He was checking to make sure he was who he said he was, “Because I believed him to be a spy and Dumbledore told me not to,” he said quickly. He would have been annoyed if he hadn't been so scared. Moody lowered his wand. 

“What's happened?” He asked, stumping forward. 

“I just got a warning from James and Lily, there are Death Eaters at their home, they're in trouble, Mad-Eye,” 

Moody considered him as he walked over to where he stood near the fireplace, “do you know how many?” He asked. 

“No, Lily's message just said Bellatrix and- and others,”

Moody growled, “who else can get inside their house?” He asked, “how did they get inside? Have they lifted the Fidelius Charm?”

“No, they'd need Dumbledore for that, wouldn't they? And I don't know how, they can't have gotten in unless Peter…”

“Unless Peter told them where to go,” finished Moody. 

Sirius’s mouth fell open in shock as comprehension dawned. Even in his pain-stricken mind, he could cobble together what Death Eaters at the Potter’s house meant.  “Peter’s the spy,” he said, dumbfounded. It all made sense. He had been the one passing information, not Remus, and he - Sirius - had convinced Lily and James to use him as their secret keeper. He swore loudly, “that FUCKER!”

“Keep your hat on,” said Moody, “yes, it looks that way. But it still remains, who has Peter told? Who from our side can get there to help them?”

Sirius stood staring at Moody, his mind whirring. “Me,” he said after a moment, “and- and Dumbledore, and,” his heart sank at the thought, “and Bathilda Bagshot,” 

Moody grunted, “alright then,” he said, “I'll go to the ministry. You go to Dumbledore,”

Sirius looked at him and clasped his hand. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, and disapparated. 

The Shrieking Shack looked as it always had, but Sirius did not stop to look around. Changing into Padfoot he bounded through the house and out the long winding tunnel that led to the whomping willow. He prodded the knot at the base of the trunk and pounded towards the castle. He understood why you couldn't apparate or disapparate on the grounds, but he was severely annoyed nonetheless. He reached the front doors, changing back to his human self to yank them open, then back to Padfoot as he hurdled up the stairs. 

How much time had he wasted already? Ten minutes? Fifteen? He found himself hoping that Bellatrix was using her usual tactic of playing with her victims before killing them. He could handle them hurt, but not  _ dead.  _ He pushed the thought away. He mustn't think that way. He couldn't think that way. 

He reached the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, back in his human form.  _ Shit, password.  _

“Sugar quills!” He tried, but the gargoyle did not move. He swore animatedly, beginning to pace.

“Chocolate Frogs!” he tried again, “Mars bars! Lemon Drops!” The gargoyle remained still.

“GOD DAMMIT!” he yelled, kicking the gargoyle.

“I hear you!” Came a voice through the dark of the corridor.  It was Filch, the caretaker.  “Students out of bed!” he wheezed, “You cannot hide from me!”

“Filch!” Sirius yelled, desperate. The wheezing man came around the corner and stopped when he saw Sirius standing there. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, cautiously. 

“I need to see Dumbledore!” Sirius almost shouted, “what’s the password, Filch?!”

Filch regarded him for a moment, “the headmaster is sleeping, I'm sure,” he said, “it will be best if you come back in the morning,” 

Sirius swore again, “Bloody hell, Filch, I need him  _ now! _ ” He roared. 

Filch opened his mouth to answer but before he could do so, the gargoyle had leapt aside and Dumbledore emerged into the corridor. His gaze swept over Filtch scowling and Sirius sweaty and desperate. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, his voice maddeningly calm. 

“It's James and Lily!” He said, breathlessly, “Death Eaters, they've gotten in the house. Peter was their secret keeper, he's the spy, he's the one who let them in. Please we have to help!”

Filch was looking between Sirius and Dumbledore with great interest. But Dumbledore simply said, “Let's go,” and in one swift movement, turned and began making his way back up the spiral staircase to his office. Sirius hesitated for a fraction of a second before following him, leaving Filch scowling in the corridor below. 

“I do believe an emergency portkey is our best bet,” he said, pushing open the door to his office.

Sirius hadn’t been in the office in over three years, but not much had changed.  Small glass objects still lined the room, giving the illusion the walls were glittering.  Dumbledore was getting something out of his desk as Sirius moved forward, his heart pumping.  What was he looking for?  Why was he taking his time? Did he not realize that Lily and James were in  _ trouble _ ? Did he not care?

Then, in one swift movement, Dumbledore had drawn his wand and was pointing it as Sirius, the end pointing right between his eyes.

Sirius froze, his eyes on the wand tip.  Peter was one thing, he always hung around people who were bigger and stronger than himself - but Dumbledore?  They stood there for a long moment.  Sirius had not even drawn his wand. What was happening?  In twenty minutes he’d gone from trying to sleep off the hurt of losing Remus, probably for good, to fearing for the life of his best friends, to being held at wand point by the greatest wizard in the world.  He wondered idly if he’d ever get a chance to laugh about these twenty minutes, once everything had been solved and everyone was safe.  That was assuming, of course, Dumbledore didn’t kill him right then and there.

“Pull up your sleeves,” said Dumbledore, his eyes never leaving Sirius’s own.

“D-do you think I’m the spy?” he asked as he slowly rolled up the sleeves of the flannel that had served as a shirt during the flurry back at his flat.  He held out his forearms, just as Remus had one mere hours previously.

Dumbledore’s eye clicked down to his bare arms and Sirius became very grateful he and James had not gotten those matching tattoos during James’s stag party. Dumbledore's eyes flighted back up to him.  “When was the last time we saw each other?” he asked.

“This afternoon,” he said, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.  “You told me about Alice and Frank and that Voldemort was gone,”

Dumbledore lowered his wand, “My apologies, Sirius, one can only be so sure,”

Sirius nodded, his heart was still pounding in his chest, “So they chose Peter over you for their secret keeper?” asked Dumbledore, “and didn’t tell anyone.”

“I thought it was smart.  If Voldemort was going to be looking for the Potter’s, he’d surely think it was me, no one would suspect Peter,”

“So, when you handed me the slip of paper saying where they lived?”

“Peter wrote it,” he war starting to get impatient, “Work out the details later. Bellatrix and who knows who else have been at their house too long already!”

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, springing back into action, “Let’s go,” he picked up an old quill off his desk and tapped it with his wand.  It glowed gold for a minute and he offered the end to Sirius who took it.  They waited exactly 10 seconds, Sirius’s heart thumping in his chest, then the familiar jerk came at the back of his collar and they were gone.

They landed in the street, Sirius stumbling slightly, looking up at the house.

The windows were dark and the curtains drawn, but the door was ajar, as if no one had been bothered enough to close it. Sirius’s stomach turned over…  _ they thought they were safe, they thought they weren’t going to be distrubed _ .  He took a deep shuttering breath.  _ Good, let them be surprised _ . He was comforted slightly that there was no Dark Mark glowing above the house, but he wasn’t ready to breath easy just yet. 

Slowly, they padded up to the front door, Sirius’s ears alert for any noise. He breathed deeply, channeling Padfoot who was always lurking just below his conscious mind. There were Lily and James’s scents, they were fresh and healthy.  _ They're alive _ , or at least had been about ten minutes previously. He prayed they still were. There were other scents, the cat was hiding under the table in the kitchen, wary, flicking his tail back and forth. They stepped slowly into the house, he could hear voices. Bellatrix was laughing, a man was crying. He breathed again, mouth open, trying to taste who was in the house.  There was Bellatrix’s scent, and her husbands, and his brother. But there were two more male scents. One he felt he recognized from his school days and… Peter. 

Peter was here. Peter had not only told them where to find the Potters but had brought the Death Eaters calling.  Dumbledore moved past him towards the living room.  The door was closed and the muffle of voices were getting louder.  Sirius’s heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins, breathing regularly, trying to steady his nerves, when the scream wrenched through the night. 

Sirius’s blood turned cold. Lily was screaming at the top of her lungs, a blood curling, terrified scream. It kept going, echoing into the night. Sirius was frozen in fear.  He wanted to help her, to race into the room where at least six death eaters stood torturing his friend.  Then James’s voice joined Lily’s and Sirius’s world was surely ending, how  _ dare _ they do that to his brother.

Dumbledore turned to him, “Cover me,” he said, his voice barely audible over the screams filling the air. Sirius nodded, mutely, unable to think.  He needed action, he needed to fight.  He could not wait here, in the hall, while his best friends were being  _ tortured.  _

Lily stopped screaming but James continued, his voice breaking.  Sirius could hear Bellatrix yelling, cursing at the two of them, “TELL US YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD! YOU WANT HIS SUFFERING TO END, DON’T YOU?! TELL US WHERE HE IS!”  Sirius could hear the mania in her voice - she was at her most dangerous.  The door to the living room was closed, and Dumbledore lined up in front of it, making eye-contact with Sirius.

“On my signal,” he mouthed, Sirius nodded.

“Again!” shrieked Bellatrix from inside the room

“CRUCIO!” But it was not just her who had shouted.  At least three male voices had joined her.  James was screaming again.   _ Four _ , he thought, dumbfounded,  _ four curses at once… _

As if the curse had been his cue, Dumbledore raised his wand and blasted the door in.

Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Barty Crouch Jr. were standing over James who was writhing and twitching on the floor. Greyback was sitting on the couch, holding Lily upright by her hair and running a knife almost lovingly along her neck.  Peter was huddled in a corner, his face hidden in his hands.  They all looked up as Dumbledore and Sirius entered the room.

Bellatrix let out a scream of fury, but before she could react, Dumbledore had blasted the ceiling up.  Plaster rained down on them.

“Stupefy!” shoulded Bellatrix, Sirius dodge to one side.  This was where he shined.  He was shit at waiting, sucked at keeping still, helpless when there was nothing to be done; but fighting, fighting he was good at.  His fear was gone, his worry gone, the only thing that lay in front of him now were the pack of filthy Death Eaters waiting to be taken down.  He could handle this.

“Impedimenta!” he shot back at Bellatrix.  She was blasted off her feet, flying into the television stand.  He shot a stunner at Crouch, who threw himself behind a chair to avoid it.  Dumbledore had already successfully stunned Rabastan and began dueling Rodolphus and Crouch.  Bellatrix was getting to her feet and he charged her, as a jet of green light flew from her wand, missing him by inches.  He laughed at her but then something large and heavy landed on him from above.  Greyback had jumped on his back, his hands grappling at Sirius’s face.  Sirius fell to the ground, kicking out at the werewolf clinging to him.  Bellatrix was laughing.  Dumbledore had stunned Rodolphus and was dueling Crouch alone now.

“You want a taste, cousin?” she laughed and turned her wand on him, “Cruci-” but Sirius lashed out wrapping his legs around her feet and tripping her.  She fell with a crash and a scream.  He used her brief distraction to pull his wand up, pointing behind him, hopefully at Greyback’s face, “Stupefy,” he choked.  Greyback fell still and Sirius threw him off him.  He knelt up, pointing his wand at Bellatrix who was still getting to her feet.

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!” she laughed again, “Oh cousin, you sure aren’t trying very hard! Crucio!”

“Stupefy!” 

Their spells collided in midair and went ricocheting off the walls, one breaking the side window and disappearing into the night. 

“Crucio!” she yelled again and he threw himself to the side, the spell instead hitting Greyback who awoke, screaming.  Bellatrix lifted the curse quickly, but now Sirius was on his feet again. He shot a stunner at her, but she blocked it, sending a curse at him in the next moment which he deflect with a jinx of his own. They were battling furiously.  Vaguely, he was aware that Dumbledore had won his duel with Crouch.  Sirius grinned as Dumbledore turned towards them.

“Two against one, Bella,” he yelled at her, “best to give up now when you still have the-” but someone had grabbed him around the throat as Dumbledore took up the duel. 

Greyback, revived from Bellatrix’s curse was grasping Sirius’s throat with both hands. His windpipe was blocked; he gasped for air, hands clawing at Greybacks fists, his head was surely going to snap off from his body. Dumbledore and Bellatrix were dueling now and neither seemed to realize that Sirius was dying. He could not think, he clawed helplessly at Greybacks fingers, his eyes were watering so bad his vision was blurred.  _ Think _ , he told his brain,  _ get out.  _ And with the last of his effort he reached behind him, grabbed hold of Greybacks head and slammed it into his own. 

Greybacks hold on his released and they staggered away from each other, Greyback howling and clutching his nose which was surely broken. Sirius gasped breaths of sweet relief, his head ringing and pounding, and turned to Greyback as the werewolf ran at him, his knife flashing. 

“Stupidly!” He croaked as Greyback hit him, his knife digging into Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius screamed as Greyback crumpled to the floor. The knife was buried in his left shoulder. He did not pull it out, he was not sure if he could. Instead, he turned. Dumbledore and Bellatrix were still dueling, their wands flashing. Bellatrix was laughing, Dumbledore seemed surprisingly calm. 

Sirius steadied himself, taking aim, and pointing his wand at Bellatrix. His stunner cut through the air and hit her in the chest, she gave a surprised, “oh!” and crumpled to the ground. 

Sirius lowered himself onto the sofa. He was sweating profusely, the pain in his shoulder was throbbing and he could feel his shirt getting wetter and wetter with blood. 

Dumbledore walked over to him, “thank you for that,” he said, pulling away the cloth with the gentleness and dexterity of a surgeon, “let me patch you up then you can go to St. Mungo's,”

Sirius nodded, his eyes closed, his breath coming in short gasps. Dumbledore's fingers were soothing. “Take a deep breath,” he said, “and let it out slowly,” Sirius did so, bracing himself for it. Dumbledore cleanly and expertly withdrew the knife and stanched the blood with the remains of Sirius’s shirt. He muttered something under his breath and Sirius’s shoulder and arm went cold, then searing hot, then completely numb. Dumbledore stepped back smiling at him, “you won't be able to move your arm in afraid, but I think it's better than the alternative,”

Sirius looked down at his shoulder. It was suspended in stasis, as if time ceased to exist for it. “Thank you,” he said. And looked around the room, taking in the scene. 

Wormtail lay in a corner, his eyes wide and horrified. Rabastan and Rodolphus lay near him, their bodies draped unceremoniously over each other. Crouch’s feet were sticking out from behind the chair. Bellatrix lay where she had fallen, her eyes wide, the expression of shock still on her face. Greyback lay in a puddle near the door where Sirius had left him. James was still splayed in the middle of the floor, his eyes were open, but he looked unconscious. Lily was on the floor next to him where Greyback had dropped her. Sirius went to her, moving awkwardly because of his arm, she was curled in a ball, her legs drawn up to her chest. Dumbledore walked over to James to check on him. 

He pushed her hair back out of her face, her eyes were open but unseeing. Half-dried vomit pooled under her, sticking to her cheek. She was conscious, her mouth was moving, trying to make sound. He bent over her trying to listen. 

“Come on, Lils, what is it?” But she didn't seem to see him. Her breath was short but strong, and she kept trying to say something. Sirius shook her gently. What was wrong with her? He pushed and pulled her so she was sitting up, her back against the couch, her lips still moving in her silent prayer. 

“Here,” Dumbledore reached out and took Lily’s hand in his, he was holding one of James’s hands in his other, “I'm going to lift the Fidelius Charm,” he said, “it's been compromised anyway,” 

Sirius sat back as Dumbledore bowed his head, muttering to himself. Then there was a great flash of gold light that encompassed the entire room -  _ the entire house more like  _ \- and the air around them whooshed away as if in a stiff breeze. Then the light faded, the air returned and everything was normal once more. 

There were shouts from the street. Dumbledore stood up, facing the door as Moody, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Elphias Doge all burst into the room.  

Sirius sat next to Lily, who was shaking slightly. What was wrong with her? He put a comforting hand on her knee but she didn't react. She was still staring straight in front of her, her lips moving soundlessly. Members of the Ministry were showing up now, confiscating the wands of the Death Eaters and taking them one by one back to the ministry, presumably for a trial. Dumbledore was talking to Moody, Sturgis, and someone from the ministry, explaining what had happened. 

Sirius looked over at James, his brother, his best friend, his truest and greatest confidant in the whole world. James was on his side, facing him, his glasses had fallen almost completely off his face. He wasn’t unconscious after all, his breathing was shallow and low and his eyes were flitting around the room without taking anything in. He looked mad. 

Something twisted in Sirius's gut. Four curses. At once, and from the sound of it it hadn't only been that time. What would that do to a person? 

Sirius leaned forward and crawled as best he could over to James, taking off his glasses and putting them on the coffee table. There were bits of plaster stuck in his hair, Sirius picked them out and smoothed the hair back out of his eyes. James made no indication that he knew Sirius was there. His eyes were moving rapidly still, not focusing on anything. Sirius could feel tears begin to slide down his face he picked up James’s head and cradled it in his lap. 

“It's alright Prongs, you'll be okay. I promise, you'll be okay.”

James’s eyes found Sirius’s and Sirius tried to smile at him, “hey, hey it's me, Padfoot. Your brother?”

James just stared at him for a long moment. 

Then he began to scream. 


	5. 2 November 1981 - 3:00 am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is having a bad night and decides to take a walk. But as it always seems to be, the night only gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, guys, this is completely unedited, like... absolutely nothing about this was edited apart from spell check. Some of it I didn't even reread. So... judge away, but just a forewarning. #nanowrimo2016day2

Remus Lupin couldn't sleep. He needed to sleep, it was his last night of rest before full moon, but - as was so often the case - he could not shut off his mind. His usual restlessness was not helped by the memory of his confrontation with Sirius earlier in the night. Sirius face as he'd left kept swimming before his eyes. As much as Remus hated Sirius, he knew he still loved him. He'd been able to rationalize Sirius’s actions in a thousand different ways, but the truth remained that Remus could not forgive him. 

He felt similarly to what he'd felt in school, when Sirius had told Snape about his condition. He'd been livid then. Refused to talk to Sirius for weeks. Sticking close to James and Peter and stewing until 3 am most nights. But he didn't have James or Peter this time. James had shown up with Sirius after not hearing from him for six months, which was the only thing Remus needed to know that James - like Sirius - thought him a traitor too. Peter had also been suspiciously quiet. Remus knew he'd been on a mission of some sort recently, but apart from the occasional cup of coffee, Remus knew nothing about his life. 

_ I should talk to him _ , Remus thought, as he paced around his bedroom.  _ After full moon, he and I will sit down and I’ll figure out if he thinks I'm the spy.  _

A car alarm went off in the alley below, Remus stopped his pacing to look down at the street.  It was quiet, not even a stray cat could be seen.  The car’s noise and light were disturbing the night.  Remus resisted the urge to shut it off with magic.  There was no need and using magic in muggle London was not a habit he wanted to get into.  The sound was annoying at best.  Remus leaned his head against the cold glass, he was starting to get a headache.   _ Fuck. _  He closed his eyes, the flashing lights of the car still flashing through his eye-lids.  This was  _ not _ helping.  He grumbled to himself as he grabbed an old jumper from the pile of clothes in the corner.  If he couldn’t sleep and couldn’t think, he was going to walk.

His boots were still muddy, but he pulled them on anyway.  He drew the curtains and disapparated.

Godric’s Hollow was quiet, and much darker than his corner of London.  The little village was safely tucked in for the night and no one moved in the square.  As soon as he saw the church he regretted his decision.  James and Lily would be asleep by now, and besides, he had no way of visiting them.  He had tried, once, only a few days after his break up with Sirius, but their little cottage had vanished.  No warning, no word.  He’d been worried, sure that something terrible had happened, he’d flooed to Peter’s, too angry still with Sirius to even think of talking to him.  But Peter had brewed him a cup of tea and told him gently that Lily and James had gone into hiding.  The news hadn’t been that surprising, what was more was that he hadn’t been told, he wasn’t a ‘trusted few’.  It was that more than anything that had made him want out.  He had begged Moody and Dumbledore for as many missions they could give him. They had been happy to oblige, that was, until Dorcus.  It had been full moon and Remus and Dorcas had been staking out the Rosier’s house in the West country.  Because it was full moon, Remus had had to leave Dorcas alone for the night.

Remus shoved his hands deeper in his pockets as his feet made their way towards the Potter’s house, almost of their own accord.  He wanted his brain to shut off, he could not think of Dorcus.  Not for the first time he cursed his condition.   _ If I had been there, she might have lived. _  His gut filled with the usual guilt and he looked up at the star filled sky, trying to think of something, anything else.

A scream wrenched through the night air.  Remus stopped dead.  He knew that voice.  He was blocks from where their house used to be, but it was James alright, crying in such agony and despair it made Remus’s heart pound and his breath shorten.   _ What happened?  _  Before allowing himself to think of all the possible, horrible, answers to that question, he had taken off running in the direction of their cottage.

The screaming had stopped by the time he got there.  The street was filled with people, and the house was visible, whatever they’d been using to cloak it was now gone.  Emmeline Vance stood on the front lawn, talking to a ministry worker.  He ran up to her.  No one was running, no one was in a panic, and yet, he knew what he had just heard - James screaming as if being tortured.   _ What was going on?  _  Emmeline looked up as he entered the gate.

“Remus,” she said, slight surprise in her voice, “you- you’re here,” he saw her glance at the moon, “you heard already?”

Remus pushed aside the usual flush of anger he got whenever anyone checked the moon in front of him, in favor of getting to the point.  “Heard?  I heard James screaming! What is going on, Emmeline?”

She looked at him, almost sadly, “I don’t know the full story,” she said, “But Dumbledore does, he’s inside.  All I know is some Death Eaters found them,”

Remus’s blood went cold, “But-” his mind was frantically trying to piece everything together, the carefully controlled anxiety rising up and taking over his usually very rational brain, “they- they’re not-”

“No, no, they’re alive,” Emmeline smiled at him, “But they’ll need to spend some time in St. Mungo’s,” Remus’s stomach unclenched slightly, “Go on in,” she said, jerking her head towards the house, “Dumbledore and Sirius will explain everything,”

Remus had already started moving towards the house before her words had registered fully.   _ Sirius, Sirius is here.   _ Remus had not expected to run into him so quickly, but then again, he hadn’t expected anything that had happened in the last five minutes.

The house was teeming with people, he recognized medi-witches and wizards as well as representatives from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Auror Office.  Dumbledore was talking to a group of people in the kitchen to his right.  To his left, the living room door stood ajar, it was almost ominous.  He entered the room slowly, taking in the destruction.

The television - Lily’s favorite piece of muggle technology - lay broken and smashed in it’s corner.  There was plaster covering everything and the light fixture was hanging from one small chord.  Lily was lying on her back next to the couch, apparently unconscious, as as two healers bent over her, transporting her to a stretcher that floated, waiting, in the air next to them.  James lay near her, his head cradled in Sirius’s lap.  A healer seemed to be taking his vitals.  Remus noticed that Sirius’s left arm looked frozen.  Sirius wasn’t paying attention to anyone except James.  His eyes were open, but they didn’t seem to be seeing anything.

“Prongs, Prongs,” Sirius’s voice was so low Remus could barely hear it, it was hoarse and thick and Remus realized there were tears sliding down his face.  James wasn’t responding, just staring in front of him.  Someone had removed his glasses, he looked so young, young and weak.  He hadn’t seen James this defenseless in years.  It was unnerving.  Remus was sure it would just be another minute and James would sit up, laughing, letting them all that he was fine and  _ ‘stop worrying, Moony, jeez, eat some chocolate why don’t you?’ _

But James didn’t sit up, he just kept staring at the ceiling.  The healer finished his examination and stood up.

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Remus, finding his voice at last. Sirius looked up at Remus’s voice, but didn’t say anything.

The healer looked from James to Remus, “We’re not sure,” he said, finally, “But whatever was done to her,” he pointed at Lily, whom the healers had gotten on her stretcher and were beginning to take out of the room, “was also done to him,”

“Will he be alright?” aske Sirius from the floor, a hand still protectively in James’s hair.

The healer furrowed his brow, “Once we determine what happened to them, we’ll have a better idea of the recovery process,” he conjured a stretcher and looked at Sirius, “I need to move him, can you move please?”

Sirius looked down at James and gently moved his head from his lap to the flor.  Remus noticed he moved awkwardly, his frozen left arm was of no use.  The healer levitated James onto the stretcher and out of the room.  Sirius and Remus were left alone.

“What happened?” Remus asked, staring around the room.

“Bellatrix,” said Sirius, roughly.  He’d drawn his knees up and was staring at the spot James had been, “Bellatrix and-” his voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard, “and… Peter,”

“Peter?” That didn’t make sense.  Sirius was making it sound like Peter and Bellatrix had been on the same side, but that was absure, that would never happy, that was-

“Peter was their secret keeper,” said Sirius, softly, still not looking at Remus, “I- I convinced them to use him, I was sure if anyone were to come looking they’d find me.  But he- he was the spy,” Sirius let out a muffled sob, “he was the spy, Moony, he was here, he- he was torturing them, he- he lead Bellatrix and the others here, he- he betrayed them, he… betrayed us,”

The room was spinning. Remus was staring down at Sirius, now openly sobbing, on the floor, trying desperately to understand, for it to make sense.  Lily and James had gone into hiding.  Peter had been their secret keeper.  Peter was the spy.  Now, Lily and James were hurt to a point of almost madness.  Peter had sold them out.  Peter had betrayed them.  Peter had betrayed them all.

Without thinking, Remus took two strides across the room and sank down next to Sirius.  He lifted his head and drew the sobbing man into an embrace.  Sirius clung to him, his bad arm lip at his side, his whole body heaving with sobs.  Remus didn’t cry.  Not anymore.  Not since he had been very very small.  But he held onto Sirius, giving whatever kind of comfort he could.  Slowly, Sirius’s sobs turned into sniffles, and Remus pulled away slightly, looking at him.

“Shall we kill him together?” Remus was surprised at how calm his voice was.

Sirius grinned at him, his eyes buffy, “He’s in custody, he and the rest of them,” he looked around the room, “They’ve all been taken in,”

Remus smiled, “Good,”

There was a silence in the house. It sounded as if almost everyone had left.  They looked at each other and Remus was shocked to feel no anger, no resentment.  Now that the need was real, now that the culprit had been found, nothing seemed to matter anymore.  Sirius was looking at him, and the unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them.  It did not matter anymore.  They were safe, they were alive, the spy had been found.  It would all be okay.

Dumbledore walked into the room, followed by a healer.  “Sirius, I do believe, Healer Galau will take a look at your arm,”

Remus stood up as the middle aged witched moved to examine Sirius, “Ahh yes,” she said, “You’ll need to come in to the hospital for this, love, we should make sure there was nothing nasty on that blade,”

Sirius nodded and let Healer Galau help him to his feet. They looked at each other, Sirius opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

“I’ll see you at St. Mungo’s,” said Remus, smiling weakly.  Sirius swallowed and nodded.  Dumbledore waited until they were out of the room before walking over to Remus.

“You’ve been caught up?” he asked.  Remus nodded.  Dumbledore studied him, then turned to leave.  He stopped at the door, “Get some sleep, Remus, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow,”  Remus nodded again, and Dumbledore left the room.  He heard the front door close softly a few moments later and realized he was alone in the house.

His heart felt heavy.  The adrenaline that had pumped through him at James’s scream was now replaced with dread of what was to come.  What had happened to them? What had happened to Sirius?  How had they not known that Peter was the spy?

Remus sat down on the floor where Sirius had been and brought his knees up to his chest.  What was going to happen?  Would Lily and James be alright?  What about Sirius?  What was that thing that had passed between them?  Why was he no longer furious with him?  He wasn’t one to lose resolve, but suddenly the idea of being mad at Sirius seemed ludicrous.  He heard the faint pops of wizards and witches leaving from outside.  What if they didn’t recover?  What would happen if the healers couldn’t fix them?  What would change?  Who would take care of-

_ Harry. _  The thought flitted through his mind so suddenly he felt almost dazed.   _ Where was Harry? _  In two seconds he was up and out of the room, halfway up the stairs.  The door to his bedroom was closed and Remus opened it slowly.  The light from the street outside was shining on the crib, silhouetting the little boy sleeping soundly in it.

Remus breathed a sigh of relief.  Harry was fine.  Harry was still asleep.  He moved closer to the crib.  He hadn’t seen him in six months.  He’d grown an awful lot.  His jet black hair, already long and messy like his father’s, was splayed out behind him like a halo.  His hand was by his mouth, as if it he’d fallen asleep sucking his thumb.  And loosely held in his other hand was a very familiar, very beloved, stuffed lion.

Remus sank to the floor, his stomach in knots, his breath coming in short sharp bursts.  He had given Lily and James that lion on the day Harry had been born.  They hadn’t thrown it away.  They had kept it, they had let their son hold on to it.  Surely, if they had believed him to be the spy, they would have thrown it out.  But they hadn’t, which meant…

It was taking all his self control to not make a sound.  His heart hurt, he felt both relieved, but also terrified.  What was he going to do?  No one else was here, no one else had remembered about the sleeping child upstairs.  He breathed deeply through his nose, doing his best to calm himself.  He always felt inadequate around children, knowing he could never have one of his own.  He was still gripping the edge of the crib for support, and after a moment he pulled himself up.

Harry was still sleeping.  Remus breathed again, calming himself.  He could not leave.  As quietly as he could, he slipped out of the room, and opened the hall closet, pulling out two blankets, then made his way back into Harry’s room and closing the door behind him.  He sat down in the rocking chair Lily and James had found at a muggle consignment store, and settled in.

The house was unbelievably quiet, it was  _ not _ full moon, he posed  _ no _ risk to anyone around.  He pulled the blankets up over himself.  He would wait here, maybe he would sleep, maybe he would not.  When Harry woke, they would go to St. Mungo’s and everything would be okay.

_ Everything would be okay. _


	6. 12 November 1981 2 PM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello, yes, it's been a while. I recently got a surge of inspiration for this fic so hopefully you'll get something more over the next week or two. Sorry it's been so long! Happy reading!

“What do you mean ‘no progress has been made’!??! You're the  _ best healers in the world _ ! There's nothing you can't fix! You're not trying hard enough-”

“Sirius,” Remus put a gentle hand on his knee, quieting him. Sirius’s nostrils flared but he kept his mouth shut. He was not necessary  _ angry _ but what the healer was saying wasn’t making any sense, and what it would mean was downright frightening... Harry was thankfully being watched by the glorious Mary Macdonald who had graciously taken time out of her Healer training schedule to watch Harry while Remus and Sirius dealt with… whatever it was they were dealing with now. 

The healer took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Please believe me when I say we are doing everything we can,” his voice was tired and strained.  Sirius knew he should feel guilty for yelling, but he didn’t.

“We know,” said Remus quickly, “and we could not be more grateful,” The healer smiled at that, “what did the Argentinian expert say?”

The healer sighed, “she told me what I've been saying from the start.  They are not unhealthy people. There is nothing wrong with their bodies and therefore nothing to fix. Healers have never successfully been able to heal the mind, even from simple memory charms let alone… this…” he gestured vaguely at the papers littering the desk between them, “Healer Sosa has done everything she can. I recommend at this time you look into long term care options.”

Sirius blanched. The meaning of those words were not lost on him, “Long term care?!” He exclaimed before Remus could stop him, “But that sounds like you're giving up, like you're not even going to try anymore!” He could see Remus glowering at him out of the corner of his eye but he didn't care. How could that be possible? There wasn't just  _ no  _ solution. This was St. Mungo's, the most prestigious hospital in Britain. These Healers had spent the last eleven years of their lives curing the most dark and deadly injuries known to Wizards. They'd dealt with the Dragon Pox outbreak five years ago and contained it from becoming the next Black Plague. They were highly skilled, well respected individuals and they were doing  _ nothing.  _ “That's not right,” he said, stonely, thoroughly aware that he was throwing a full blown tantrum in the middle of the hospital, “you can't just  _ stop trying _ ! That's not right, that's not fair!” 

The healer was looking at him with sympathy. “I am sorry, but we have exhausted our resources-”

“How?! You've barely spent two weeks with them! How can all your resources have been exhausted?! You need more experts, get some in from America! China! Madagascar! Antarctica! There must be  _ someone  _ out there who knows-”

“Sir, we have been in contact with our branches in America, Egypt, and India as well as our Argentinian colleagues. No one has any ideas that are worth evaluating. There was one request from a new healer in Seattle that we discussed briefly, but determined it too risky to-”

“What was it?!” Sirius was grasping at straws, he knew, but any chance, any chance at all, he would take. 

The healer regarded him. “He suggested we subject The Potters to memory charms, in essence wiping their memories completely and allowing them to ‘begin again’ with their lives,”

The bubble of hope in Sirius’s chest popped. “Wipe their memories completely?” Remus had gone pale and had stopped glaring at Sirius, “but then they wouldn't be them, they wouldn't have any idea who they were, they could turn into anyone. That's not recovery, that's homicide.”

The healer nodded at Remus, “that is what we thought too, which is why we did not pursue that particular option. And even if we had, there's no guarantee if it would work,” 

Sirius’s anger at the healer has drained out of him, he stared at his hands. He felt numb, completely detached from the world around him. Vaguely he realized the healer and Remus had moved on to talking about these ‘long term care options’, but he wasn't listening. 

They were gone. That was the fact of it. They weren't dead, but they were no longer with him. His real family, the ones that had raised him, shown him how to be good and kind, they were gone. Vaguely he knew his brother and father were dead too, but they didn't matter as much as the Potters did. First Mr. and Mrs. Potter, the parents who had taken him in, loved him, comforted him, taught him what family was, gone to Dragon Pox in their seventh year. Now, Prongs, his brother since they were eleven, his closest confidante, his pack mate, best friend, and soul mate, gone. Not dead. But gone. Bitterly he wondered if it would be better if he was dead, if it would be easier to have it be definitive, not grasping at straws and faint hopes. Lily and James were gone. 

_ Like Voldemort. _ Sirius would later laugh and feel guilty for the comparison, but it was true. For the first time in eleven years people were celebrating, toasting Neville Longbottom, and shagging like rabbits; and he, Sirius, was losing his brother and his sister in one fell swoop. 

He stayed silent most of the way back to the house. They had been staying in the Potter’s cottage as a way of keeping things normal for Harry. Maybe it should become  _ his _ normal, since James and Lily would never get better…

“Hey,” Remus had grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alleyway. The gesture was so familiar that Sirius drew his wand on instinct, looking around, senses alert. Remus smiled vaguely at him, “sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I just wondered if you wanted to get a coffee before releasing Mary of babysitting duties.”

Sirius stared at him.  _ Get coffee _ ?! Like everything was normal and dandy and fine. Like he wasn't facing the daunting task to raising Harry without any sort of guidance from Lily and James. Like he wasn't mourning his best friends while they still lived. 

Now that he thought about it, coffee did sound like a good idea. He nodded mutely, storing his wand back in his pocket as Remus led the way into a nearby coffee shop. 

With the warm mug in his hands and Remus’s knees knocking against his own under the table, Sirius felt a bit calmer. He breathed the steam coming up from the mug, secretly wishing he had his old flask of fire whiskey on him. 

“I know you weren't listening,” Remus said. Sirius knew that he hadn't been talking but the statement flowed as if they'd been having a conversation for hours. Sirius looked at him. Remus looked tired, more tired than usual, but it was different than the haunted ghostly look Sirius was accustomed to, he looked … happy?

“The healer suggested we submit them to St. Mungo’s for their long term care ward. He gave me a leaflet as well as some other long term care options to check out.”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Asked Sirius, glumly into his cup. 

“I-” Remus faltered. 

“I just don't think I can handle it right now,”

“Sirius, someone has to handle it,” Remus’s voice was no longer calm and caring but sharp and bitter. “St. Mungo’s can only keep them where they are for so long, and it's draining money from  _ Harry’s  _ vault. You can not mope forever,”

Sirius looked at him, dumbstruck, “I am not  _ moping _ ! Moping is when you have to do homework on a sunny day and your crush turns you down for the Yule Ball, not for when your  _ best friends  _ are as good a DEAD!” His voice had risen and there were several people looking at them curiously. 

“Excuse me,” hissed Remus, the vein in his temple pulsing madly, “but you need to sit down and shut the fuck up. You're acting like you are the only one who has experienced a loss.  _ Fool!  _ What about Mary, and Elphias and Emmeline, hmm? What about me?! God,  _ what about Harry!  _ Do not make the mistake in thinking you are the only one here who has been affected, Sirius, you need to snap out of it and focus on the task at hand,” he shuffled the papers he was holding purposefully, “let's talk about long term care options,”

They ended up going with St. Mungo's for at least the immediate future. The Janus Thickey Ward was co-ed so they wouldn't have to separate the two of them (something the healers had tried to do, only to be met with loud screaming from James and a sharp increase in blood pressure from Lily) and it was relatively cheap compared to some of the other options the healer had recommended. 

Once they'd figured that out and gone home to relieve Mary, Remus had announced he was going to go for a walk. Sirius distracted himself by trying to teach Harry how to steer on his toy broomstick. (Not that there was much to teach him, the boy was a natural flyer even if it he couldn't walk terribly well yet.)

Sirius made dinner while Harry banged on some pots and pans in the kitchen. He didn't even ask about the living room, which was a first that Sirius took as both relieving and ominous. 

They hadn't touched the living room since  _ that _ night.  Harry had apparently gotten a glimpse of the destruction inside on their way out the door that next morning before Remus had hastily closed the door telling Harry that it was dangerous and not to go in there if he knew what was good for him.  The door hadn’t been opened since.  Sirius knew they would have to deal with it at some point. They’d have to deal with everything at some point, wouldn’t they?

That was basically what Remus had said when he’d snapped at him in the shop.  They have to deal with it, so why not deal now and worry and fret and mope and grieve later when there was more time and opportunity? 

_ Except there won’t be a later, _ said a little voice in the back of his head.  Sirius looked across the table at Harry who was slurping noodles happily.  Later implied time to himself, time to think without being interrupted every five seconds, time where he could abandon all responsibilities and lose himself in his grief. Later would be just about ten years from now, given the current rate of things. There was no alone time as a parent.  No one to shuffle responsibilities off to. No one to help get you the space you needed.

The front door opened.  Remus was home.  He walked into the kitchen, a bag over his shoulder and a grave look on his face.

Sirius stood up, “What is it?”

That look on Remus’s face could mean nothing good. Something must have happened to someone. Where were they needed? Where was the fight?

Remus held up his hand, smiling slightly as if he’d read Sirius’s mind. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise, I just brought over a few things from my flat,” 

Sirius relaxed and oddly felt disappointed. Maybe Remus was right, maybe he did need to just  _ do  _ something.

“There’s pasta still on the stove,” said Sirius, guestering.  

Remus put his bag down with a thump and walked over to it, sniffing at the pot.  He turned to Harry, “Did Padfoot poison it, do you think?” Harry just grinned at him through a mouthful of spaghetti. 

“Oi!” Sirius chucked a napkin at Remus’s head, “I followed James’s recipe so don’t go blaming me if it’s poisonous,”

Remus snorted, “I feel like we’re back in potions class,”

“Nah, it’s Lily’s instructions I’d follow then, and they were never wrong,”

“True,”

They fell silent.  This show of domesticity, the cooking, the bickering, the eating around the same table, was purely for Harry’s benefit.  In truth, the whole thing felt stilted and awkward, as if they were reciting lines from a poorly written play. 

They fell asleep in the guest bed that night. Neither of them had the heart to use James and Lily's bed. The bed was small, but they kept to their respective sides, not touching, backs to the other. 

Sirius dreamed of Grimmauld Place. He walked the empty halls, the portraits followed his movements but didn't say anything. His brother's room was empty. As were his parents various rooms. But everywhere he went he had the distinct impression that he was being watched, that there was someone lurking just out of sight, tracking his movements.  He called out but no one answered.  In the hall, Kreacher's severed head turned to him proclaiming him the biggest stain on the family honor.  

He woke suddenly.  The sky was paling, just beginning on day light.  He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to Remus’s soft breathing until Harry woke a few hours later proclaiming the day had begun.

* * *

 

Miles away, in a similar cottage, an old woman too was lying awake, staring at her ceiling, mourning her son and daughter-in-law and trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had been thrust once more into motherhood.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! This fic is part of my Nanowrimo series (I'm jumping between a bunch of fics hoping to get at least one done).
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://youvegotenoughnerve.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please comment if you liked it! (or didn't, I like comments either way)


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